


Persecution Complex

by PirateQueenCatherine



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Domestic Bliss, F/M, Feral Behavior, M/M, Oral Sex, Pain, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26182207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PirateQueenCatherine/pseuds/PirateQueenCatherine
Summary: One of the things I miss in FE3H is more tie-ins for characters’ abilities into their story. The name “persecution complex” also absolutely sucks for Bernadetta’s, as, well, it’s not a persecution complex if she was legitimately abused. Hm? FE3H kinda sucks when it’s talking about mental health? Say it ain’t so. /sAnyway, the concept of her ability is “Grants Atk +5 when unit is not at full HP” - how does that feel for Bernadetta? Freeing, like she’s finally ‘justified’ in fighting back? Painful, like a cornered animal? More importantly: is it horny.Yes, I think it is, so this is a fic about how Bernie reacts to some surprise pain with a Hufernie twist.
Relationships: Bernadetta von Varley/Hubert von Vestra, Ferdinand von Aegir/Bernadetta von Varley, Ferdinand von Aegir/Bernadetta von Varley/Hubert von Vestra, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	Persecution Complex

**Author's Note:**

> This is a smutty, post-CF fic about Hufernie, although I’ve mentioned some of the other pairings I’ve enjoyed. Also I imply Lysithea is a Black Eagle and I mean I know she isn’t but like, come ON let Lindhardt take care of her, their ending is too pure.
> 
> Also right okay I’m assuming the Adrestian Empire has developed spinning chairs okay look just GRANT ME THIS ONE KINDNESS FOR THE SAKE OF IT.

It was an open secret that the key leaders in the rise of the Adrestian Empire, Emperor Edelgard and her class at Garreg Mach, had partnered off in the peacetime that followed. It was the subject of jokes at certain parties, that they ended up one large family by virtue of their friendships, partnerships, and the interwoven complex relationship dynamics they had developed. “It is true that few from the monastery would find a connection as deep as those forged there,” a writer once said.

And despite the months, even years, of...complicated difficulties, as some had put it, many of them had found stability and care in their personal lives. Edelgard and Byleth were a match none could argue with, Linhardt and Lysithea had retreated to a countryside home, while Hubert, Bernadetta, and Ferdinand had a relationship that...few wanted to put a name on. 

Some evenings they would travel out in a group, sometimes one was left behind, but never for long. Every so often a rumour would circulate, that Bernadetta had played them both for fools, but the general public vastly overestimated her capability for such mischief. And when someone who was close to the trio asked, they would simply laugh, look into each others’ eyes, and laugh again.

Together, they kept a large home out of the city. Large enough that each one could sleep separately if desired - far better than nights on the couch, as Hubert would gladly state after sleeping with his lanky legs hanging off one end - or all together in a master bedroom. In every other way, it was normal. Both Hubert and Ferdinand worked in central Enbarr, while Bernadetta had turned what was meant to be a spare room into a personal office/art studio/hole of soft comforts to work from home. 

They took turns cooking (although Hubert’s meals were bland and often unseasoned but nutritious, Ferdinand struggled to keep anything to time so often burned something, and Bernadetta’s talents lay closer to sweet treats than savoury meals) and cleaning. Aside from rare occasions that usually could be blamed on Ferdinand and Hubert being out of town for long enough that Bernadetta’s hole of soft comforts had expanded to the rest of the house, it was clean, tidy, and well kept.

Outside of the fact they were a trio, nothing was terribly out of the ordinary. It took some time to convince Caspar there was nothing strange going on, but that was about as far as it went. 

It was about 9 months into their time there that Hubert and Ferdinand, having ridden home together, heard a crash and a yelp from upstairs as they arrived through the front door.

“Everything alright,” Ferdinand yelled. The best way to describe the difference in their care was that Ferdinand would dive headfirst with a shout and a yell, whereas, Hubert would silently approach so as not to disturb, albeit the two others had spent long enough with him to anticipate his arrival, and read the slight muscle twitch that indicated his worry.

“Y-yes!” Bernie exclaimed, although it was immediately followed up by the door to her study closing with yet another bang. “J-just busy!” 

The men looked at each other and each raised an eyebrow. Ferdinand rushed upstairs - forgetting to take his boots off, which Hubert rolled his eyes at - as his partner hung up a coat. 

“R-really, everything is okay,” she cried. She was well aware that if she said ‘don’t come in’ Ferdinand’s tremendously oblivious self would stand in the doorway, proud of himself. In fact, there was nothing stopping the man. 

He pushed the door open, and looked over at Bernadetta. In fact, the room was fine, exactly as expected, other than a handful of pencils and brushes strewn over the floor.

“S-see! N-nothing to worry about. Y-you can go back downstairs now, give Hubert a kiss for me!” She was wrapped in a blanket, and the room was dark save for her desk, which had most of the lighting other than what crept in through some curtains. In a manner unlike her, she didn’t even turn around to look Ferdinand in the eye. 

With Hubert creeping around the doorframe to get a look as well, Ferdinand stepped inside to pick up the bits and pieces on the floor for Bernadetta.

“R-really! It’s okay! No need to d-do that!” 

“What’s up, Bernadetta?” Ferdinand asked, again oblivious, but in a good-natured, kind way. Hubert, one the other hand, giggled to himself.

He had noticed the problem: on another chair, across the other side of the room, were Bernadetta’s clothes. She was not wrapped in the blanket for any reason other than she was naked underneath, and couldn’t turn without revealing that fact to them. He stepped inside, and that made Bernadetta sit up straight, knowing there was even more of a chance of either one noticing.

“Okay, w-well, you can just...leave them there!” 

Ferdinand did as she asked, and, surprisingly, didn’t question anything that was happening. He thought it best to let her come to him, if she wanted to tell him what was going on. With a kiss on the back of her head, just far back enough that he didn’t see down her exposed front, he backed away.

Hubert was not quite so kind.

He leaned in, and did the same, but reached forward with a gloved hand. Carefully, he brushed it over her shoulder and down her front, just between her collarbones, and tapped slightly, as if to say ‘I know’. 

She yelped, pulling the blanket around herself more tightly, exposing a foot underneath the arm of the chair; she typically sat either cross-legged or with her knees up to her chest, much to the boys’ dismay for her posture.

“See you downstairs for dinner?” Ferdinand asked, thankfully saving her from further embarrassment at Hubert’s hands. 

“Y-yes! I-I’ll finish up soon! C-could you please close the door on your way out!”

“Of course, Bernadetta.” Hubert replied, his smirk almost audible in his voice. First Ferdinand, then Hubert backed out of the room, closing the door. 

From within, Bernadetta scrambled to grab her clothes. Of course Hubert had noticed! Of course he had, he noticed anything like that! She had just got carried away with work, and forgotten to get redressed before they got home. It was just comfy! Soft and cozy and had that lovely feeling of being surrounded, coddled. 

And Hubert had been so mean! Not the true kind of mean, but just...he clearly knew, but didn’t say anything. Gosh, she thought, how could he be so smug. That smug, cocky, handsome ass. Her chest had quickly grown sensitive at his touch, too, nipples peeking out and brushing against the blanket after they grew hard.

Upon hearing the two pairs of footsteps retreat downstairs, she quickly put on her clothes. Underwear, bra, leggings, socks, skirt, shirt, and a cardigan. 

Done, as quickly as she had taken them off many hours prior. Closing her notebook, and snuffing out the light in her studio, she ran out of the room.

Straight into Hubert’s chest.

How long had he been standing there?! Had she misheard him go downstairs earlier, or had he snuck back up? Did he say anything to Ferdinand? If Hubert wanted to tease her, why wasn’t Ferdinand with him? All of these questions raced through her mind at a speed which meant she only actually heard the back half of something he said.

“...everything is alright.”

“S-sorry,” she mumbled, trying to overcome the feeling of panic as she finally met his gaze, looking up to find it, “what did you say?”

“Before I tease you any further, I want to check if everything is alright, I didn’t want to make you genuinely uncomfortable.”

“O-oh! Uh, yes, just, uhm, did, uh, well,” she continued, words falling out of her mouth.

“I noticed, yes.”

“I-I can explain!” She exclaimed, practically bouncing at the opportunity to relieve herself and him of anything - and get in an explanation that didn’t sound too odd.

“Oh, no, no no no, no need for that.”

With one hand, he pushed upwards on her chin, ensuring she wouldn’t look down or away. Leaning in, and gently pinching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he kissed her, but only for a moment, before he moved further along, to her cheek, which he licked. He dragged his tongue along her burning cheek, back to her ear, and stood back upright, this time with a grin on his face. 

“You were adorable. Just thought I should let you know I fully endorse this blanket-wearing Bernadetta. Although you really should tell Ferdinand.”

She was stunned, barely able to comprehend the moment. All she could do was nod and shuffle her feet, eventually - well, after about 15 or 20 seconds - she wiped her cheek clean and coughed, regaining a tiny amount of composure. Just enough to speak, at least.

“I d-don’t need to tell him! It’s embarrassing! It’s just comfy, okay!” She did her best to say it with as much conviction, but as quietly as possible, to avoid him walking around the corner and saying something like ‘what’s embarrassing,’ just to make the whole situation worse.

“I promise you, it’s sweet. You work from home, work in whatever way suits you my dear. Just…” 

He looked around her and into the room, and at the blanket she had been using. 

“Try not to leak onto the blankets, dear.”

Giggling away, he turned back to the stairs before she could respond. She knew she got worked up sometimes at her desk, and was absolutely guilty of masturbating there sometimes, but leaking! Had he seen? Had he smelled her? Was this not the first time? Bernadetta wanted to ask him all of this but, in true Hubert von Vestra fashion, he had disappeared before she could. 

* * *

Downstairs, Ferdinand was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables when Hubert returned. 

“Are you sure she’s alright?” He asked. 

“Yes, she made that clear.”

“Just, you know I worry, I feel like I struggle to know what the right thing to do is so I just do the nice thing but not the right thing and I feel-”

Hubert cut him off by approaching from behind and wrapping two arms around his waist. 

“I promise, she’s alright, but I’m sure she’d appreciate your support as well as mine.”

Losing himself a little in Ferdinand’s near-glowing hair, they smiled to themself, as his hands were slowly pried apart. 

“I understand your need to be close to me, but you really should be careful when I’m holding a knife.”

“Oh, hush, you’re better with a knife than me or Bernadetta, it’s me who shouldn’t be trusted.”

Putting the knife down, Ferdinand span around on one heel, to face Hubert. 

“I have no idea if that’s meant to be self deprecation,” he paused to give a short, quick kiss on the lips, “but I shan’t allow it regardless. But, as much as I shan’t allow it, I also shan’t allow you, young man, to distract me from dinner, because I’m really, really hungry.”

As he span back towards the kitchen counter, Hubert huffed teasingly. Choosing not to torment both of his partners further, he retreated to their front room, to read.

* * *

Some hours later, the three gathered at the dinner table for dinner. A vegetable and fish stew, as was often made in Aegir. The fish in Enbarr certainly wasn’t as nice, but it was one of the dishes both Hubert and Bernadetta appreciated immensely. 

“Mmf, how were your days?” Bernadetta asked, swallowing a mouthful. As always, Ferdinand was first to speak up, he was like a loyal puppy to those two: excitable and bubbly every time attention was paid to him, and giving it back tenfold.

“My day was alright, although I got to have a meeting that involved Hubert, so, that made things a little easier.”

“Yes,” Hubert agreed, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “that was a highlight, at the very least. And what about you, Bernadetta?” He stretched a leg out, to rub against herself, before looking her square in the eye. “How was working from home naked?”

“Waah!”

“Hubert!”

Both of them exclaimed, although for wildly different reasons. Bernadetta pouted and puffed her cheeks, while Ferdinand, due to his obliviousness, thought he was just being rude.

“Apologise to Berna-”

“F-Ferdie,” she said, comforting him with a hand on his arm, “h-he’s just teasing, and being VERY MEAN about it. No need to defend my honour. Or, uhm, lack, given he’s right.”

“Sorry if that was cruel, Bernadetta, I just, genuinely, find it very sweet.”

Ferdinand interjected.

“Okay, if we could PLEASE explain what is going on I’d really, really appreciate it.”

Hubert raised a hand, as if to encourage Bernadetta, who put down her cutlery to take a deep breath.

“Y-you may not have noticed earlier, but when I was wrapped in the blanket, I was naked underneath, Ferdie. That’s why I told you you didn’t need to come in, that’s why I wasn’t...very affectionate.”

His face hung as if he was rebooting, pieces falling into place as it made sense.

“Oh! I see! And so that’s, right, yes, which explains, okay, right, yes. Sorry, yes, carry on.”

“And SOMEBODY, not naming NAMES,” she said, rubbing her own leg back against Hubert’s, “has decided to use this fact to TEASE ME with such things as making me tell you and saying it’s ADORABLE.”

“To be fair to Hubert, It is adorable, is it not?”

Hubert burst out laughing at that, while Bernadetta hid her face in her hands.

“That’s not the point! But! Thank you both for thinking it’s cute!”

“You’d be welcome to do that whenever you’d like, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before.” Ferdinand responded, with an innocence.

“Oh, what a grand idea, Ferdinand,” Hubert teased, his leg far enough up Bernadetta’s underneath the table that his foot rested on her chair. “What do you say, Bernadetta?”

She tensed up, pulling her legs together to pinch his leg between hers.

“I don’t do it all the time! Just, hmph.” She pouted, puffing out her cheeks a bit. “Promise to stop teasing me about it?”

“We promise,” they agreed, although Ferdinand had a warm expression, while Hubert had a sly grin. Pulling his leg back, he left Bernadetta in peace for the evening. 

* * *

So it became semi-regular for Bernadetta to work from the comfort of blankets. To the extent that she had a collection, in fact: all tremendously soft, some thick and warm, others light and flowing. 

And, despite her fears, the boys were kind. They complimented her, both on the sweet aesthetic it gave her, hunched over her latest piece, and on how they had more opportunities to admire her body. Her pale chest, her flat stomach, even in that scrunched-up state when she had tucked herself away, her bare legs. 

One evening, though, Hubert was not. It was Friday evening, Ferdinand was already home, and he was exhausted. Tired of the world outside his home and his partners, he wanted nothing more than to indulge himself in the two of them. By the time he got in, Ferdinand was in the shower, singing along to something, in that utterly carefree way that he would. Bernadetta’s room, though, was ajar, and he could hear the scratch of her writing from inside.

With thanks to the door for holding open a gap large enough for him to slip through, Hubert crept up behind Bernadetta, a rare occasion where she hadn’t heard him coming. Kneeling behind her chair, he wrapped both arms around it, and her, slipping hands into the blanket to hold her on either side of her ribcage.

“YEEP,” she cried, following that with four or five similarly gibberish yelps, before she recognised the voice of the man laughing behind her.

“HUBERT.” She screeched.

“Sorry, my love, I so rarely get to surprise you nowadays.”

“WITH GOOD REASON, YOU CRUEL MAN!” Anyone outside would think she was genuinely upset, but calling Hubert cruel, or mean, was only part of the fun for them both.

“Are you almost done with your work?” He asked, hands still holding her, gloved fingertips tracing the lines where her breasts met her side.

“Yes, this isn’t work, this is just something I was writing for fun, why? Oh no, is it my turn to cook and I’ve forgotten again? Or is it a mess outside? Or-”

“No, dear, I’m just, honestly, horny.” He interrupted, bringing one hand over her breast, pushing down carefully to pull it along, tug at her skin a little. With a whimper, she relaxed into it, slipping down the chair a little and covering her hand with her own.

“O-oh, uhm, w-well,” she stuttered, stretching her legs out as she spun her chair around to face Hubert, who remained on his knees. His hair was a little damp from spitting rain outside, his formal clothes ever so slightly messy after he hastily undid his top button after getting inside, shirt untucked off at his waist from, seemingly, the rush home. And, in honesty, this was one of the times she admired him most.

That look of someone competent, fulfilled, yet on the other side of a difficult day. Where the messy flecks of hair in random directions added to the personality of someone who is more than a handsome face at work. A smile that meant he wanted to do something filthy.

Smiling to herself, she planted both feet on the ground, either side of him, spreading her legs a bit. 

“You should probably help me get as worked up as you.” 

It was rare for her to say something so cocky, but any time she did, it only riled up the boys more. She knew it, and- 

“Oh, wait, should we wait for Ferdie?” She asked, able to hear the splashing of water still.

“I think I know a good way to tell him what’s going on…” Hubert replied, already leaning forward. 

He started at the bottom of her thighs. He squeezed one tightly, pulling at the flesh and muscle, as he kissed the other. The kisses were deep, not surface level, he pushed his face into her thigh to see how she’d respond, and to smother himself in her. A whimper and a tremble, just as he expected.

But he wanted her to be vocal, loud, so Ferdinand would hear.

So he quickly moved up her thigh, dragging his tongue along the inner side of it whenever he would inch closer to her pussy. Gripping on to the arm of the chair, she tensed up, finally fixing that hunched over posture of hers so she could throw her head backwards.

But no yelps, no screams, yet.

Looking up, admiring her body and contorted face, he grabbed her by the ankles, in a much tighter grip than before. Shuffling himself forward, he lifted and pulled on them, helping her slide down the chair a little, bringing them up and behind him, knees bent towards the ceiling and her feet firmly planted on his back. 

From there, he got a good look at her. Bernadetta took the ‘shave bare once in a while, rather than trim constantly’ approach to her hair, and it had been a couple of weeks, so she had short brown hairs directing him down between her thighs. As if he needed guidance right now. Hooking each arm around her legs, he pressed his mouth against her, avoiding her clit for the moment, she was prone to overstimulation, instead hoping his hot breath and warm tongue would be enough of a shock to the system. 

Not quite. Gripping on to his waxy hair, she certainly made a noise, but not one loud enough to alert the likes of Ferdinand von Aegir. But with the force of her grip, Hubert made a similar noise, as she pulled his head up by just the roots of his short hair and pushed down on his back, he arched himself, pushing his rear back to accommodate the position.

Goddess, he wanted her to scream. So, with what little movement her grip afforded, Hubert turned his head towards her thigh. And, with the same force he used when gripping her ankle earlier, he bit down.

The yelp, scream, and moan that followed could probably have been heard by Petra all the way in Brigid. 

It was uncontrolled for her, as were the physical responses. Her right leg spasmed, giving him a not-so-gentle kick on his shoulder, and across her body she felt jolts as different muscles acted of their own accord. 

Bernadetta had certainly been hurt, consensually of course, by Hubert and Ferdinand before. But usually she expected it, she had been told to expect a spanking, or had been asked if she was comfortable receiving a love bite (she always was), rarely did either decide to hurt her as a surprise, and certainly not with such force. It felt like her skin had broken, like he had sunk himself deep enough to drink her.

In reality he hadn’t, although he too was scared he’d taken a bite out of her. Her skin felt close to giving way, and deep red teeth marks would likely give way to bruises soon. 

“Bernadetta?! Are you alright?!” Ferdinand called, clearly bashing against the wall as he panicked. She opened her mouth to respond, but croaked as she pulled Hubert in with more force, hard enough that he’d need to start pulling hairs out to try that again. 

The force on the man’s back grew, and despite her size, she had him held tightly. He had no leverage to get up, her feet on his back and grip on his hair meant sitting upright was impossible, and she was not letting go. In fact, in a brief moment where he met her gaze, she was grinning ear to ear, wide enough that her teeth were visible, she had a look as if she wanted to take a bite out of him, too.

“Bernie, I-” Ferdinand stopped as he walked in, a towel around his waist and hair soaked, much of it down his chest. 

It was certainly a sight. Hubert on his knees, ass perked up in the air like he was posing, with Bernadetta looking down at him like a feral carnivore. Both were a mess, but god, was it hot to see. To see Hubert taken down a peg, to see Bernie taking what she wanted, with his tongue audibly lapping at her even from the doorway. His towel immediately twitched as he watched, eyes darting across both of them.

“Mmf!” Hubert tried to say, but Bernie only pulled hard when he swapped out licking for speaking.

“Shut...fuck...up!” She shouted, voice cracking as this was one of the first times she’d used that tone. In fact, she barely acknowledged Ferdinand, who had fully stepped in now, and had decided to fixate his gaze on Hubert’s butt.

“Mind if I…” he gestured down at Hubert, and Bernadetta kicked him in the shoulder once more.

“If it’ll...fuck...shut...him...UP” she croaked, reaching backwards to her desk, fumbling to open a drawer. The number of times she masturbated in that room meant she kept a drawer of supplies: a towel, lubricant, and a vibrating dildo, just in case the mood struck and she didn’t want to retreat to a bedroom. As she made sure it wasn’t a tub of paint that she was about to lob at Ferdinand’s freshly washed chest, he dropped his towel, kicking it off to the side for a moment. 

He was already semi-hard, and the rest of the way would be made up as he exposed Hubert a little. Kneeling down, with his own knees between Hubert’s legs, pushing out a bit to spread them, Ferdinand reached around to unbuckle him, allowing those black pants to fall away. He was as pale as Bernadetta, but far more rigorous about shaving.

Hubert was almost always shaved, both around his member and ass. Perfect for when Ferdinand made his hands slick with lubricant, reaching around with his left to grip Hubert’s penis, and using his right to spread his ass. The lubricant on his left probably wasn’t needed, Hubert had been making a mess of pre in his underwear as this went down.

This was all overwhelming for him. He was expecting to eat Bernadetta out, make her yelp, and rail her with Ferdinand’s help or voyeurism. Not this, not to see her with gritted teeth, tense muscles, and a tendency to kick him into place. It was a fantasy he had never even considered, but not one he’d ever reject if it came up again.

And so to then have Ferdinand lubing him up, feeling the man’s cock touch him, pink throbbing head against his asshole, he struggled to pay attention to anything. To his tongue, which was pushing inside Bernadetta, so he could feel her pulsing with her spasms, to his cock, leaking probably onto the floor at this point, and certainly having left a wet patch on his trousers, to his ass, which was being slowly penetrated.

That lack of focus was being tested, though, as Bernadetta finally pulled him up, forcing him to arch his back more and look up at her.

“Don’t...get...fucking...distracted!” She cried through pants and breathless moans, looking him in the eye as she did. Her body had gone from pale cream to have a crimson hue, blood rising to the surface in her chest and face, beads of sweat on her forehead from the hot flush of her passion. Or anger, it was hard for anyone to tell which.

He wanted to reply but both her and Ferdinand stopped him. She pushed his head back down into place, pushing her knees together to squeeze her thighs around his head, and Ferdinand made one harsh push into him, burying his cock inside. 

Unable to do anything other than that which those two forced him to, he did his best to focus on eating Bernadetta out. His spit made it sloppy, wet and slick, easy to slip around when she wasn’t holding him in place, tongue and lips easily moving from one erogenous zone to the other, before focusing on her clit. 

She screamed once more when he began focusing on that. And the scream only encouraged Ferdinand, who took it as an opportunity to leave a stinging red handprint as he rocked back and forth.

It was clear she wanted to scream something, but neither of the boys knew what, it simply came out in increasingly aggressive and animalistic growls, the only way to read her was by watching how her muscles stopped spasming and instead grew tense. Ferdinand, instead, took the lead on speech.

“Come on, Hubert,” he teased, taking a break between words to pull almost the whole way out, and go back in hard enough that his balls swung forward. “Be a good boy for Bernadetta, hm?”

It was humiliating for Hubert! Pathetic! In this room he was the strongest, most confident, most competent, and, to put not too fine a point on it, the only one actually fucking wearing any clothes. And yet he was being _used_.

By Bernadetta, gone feral, desperate, and shockingly controlling. And by Ferdinand, opportunistic and far, far too cocky for his own good. 

It only made him leak more. More still when Bernadetta began to fully growl.

Back of the throat growls, hungry, the kind you’d expect to be paired with gnashing teeth. But with her toes curled, digging into his back once more, she could feel herself growing close to orgasm. She wanted his tongue on her clit and for it to stay there, as still as he could be, the feeling of that wet, coarse muscle’s micro movements enough to send her over the edge. 

Eventually, she came. The kind of orgasm where basic communication skills are forgotten for as long as it lasts, cries replaced by squeaks, and her face a twisted expression. After the initial wave she let go, as if to throw Hubert away while she recovered.

So Ferdinand caught him. He lifted Hubert up, closer to an upright position as he continued to fuck him, one hand gripping his waist and the pulling back on Hubert’s hair. The sex turned from a constant rock to the kind where the slapping of skin on skin became a metronome for Ferdinand to keep up with. 

“Come on, Hubert, you can make us both come, right?”

In a way, he wished Hubert was naked, he enjoyed that feeling of his chest pressed against the man’s bare back, shoulder blades and muscles rubbing against his short ginger hairs. He enjoyed playing with Hubert’s chest, pinching his nipples and listening to whimpers that would later be denied when Hubert was questioned on how cute he sounded.

But he leaned into it, by tugging on Hubert’s clothes. On his collar, to give him just that slight sensation of something around his neck. On his shirt, to expose his midriff just a bit more, give him that sensation of vulnerability. But god, he wanted to come in him.

Back and forth and back and forth as Hubert panted, saliva and drool dripping from his mouth after that time between Bernadetta’s legs, until Ferdinand’s orgasm arrived as well. This one, though, would be left deep in Hubert, filling him up, making the man wince and tremble, a weakness coming over him. 

Holding the man upright, so their torsos could be pressed together, Ferdinand bit down on Hubert’s neck, aiming to leave a dark red lovebite. Nothing as harsh as the now-purple mark on Bernadetta’s thigh, but enough to be a reminder for their weekend.

The hold on Hubert became a cradling, though, one arm rubbing Hubert’s stomach, the other on his chest, almost certainly making a mess of his clothes but, with Ferdinand still buried in him, who cared? And in the chair sat Bernadetta, trembling, curled up into a ball with the blanket wrapped around her. 

Eventually she looked up, at the boys, who smiled back at her, albeit somewhat weakly in Hubert’s case. She was overcome with emotion.

“S-sorry!” She cried, leaping out of the chair, struggling to walk, and collapsing onto Hubert and, in a domino effect, Ferdinand, who just about managed to keep them all upright. 

“I-I’m sorry Hubert! If I hurt you! I, uhm, I don’t know what came over me! I just saw red and-”

She welled up, her head falling onto Hubert’s chest. Cradling her, much like Ferdinand was cradling him, he snickered to himself.

“Dear, I just want to thank you for not holding back.” He rasped, vocal chords struggling as he noticed quite how dry his mouth and throat had got. “I’m fine, although I would absolutely appreciate holding you, both of you, for the rest of the evening.”

Bernadetta silently but furiously nodded into his chest, sniffling a bit, while Ferdinand chose to answer for them both.

“Of course, are you both able to walk?”

Once more Bernadetta nodded, although as she tried to get up to prove it, a leg buckled underneath her, leaving her back in Hubert’s arms. Ferdinand smirked.

“Then, Hubert, do you mind if I leave you here while I prepare the bed for you both?” He asked. Hubert obliged, as much as he wished the two of them could hold one another.

* * *

For the rest of the night, they cuddled together in the master bed - with Hubert’s clothes finally removed, of course. They took turns to collect increasingly dangerous levels of snacks from the kitchen, each of them rushing on their tiptoes as they darted out the room in the cold air, wishing to be back in someone’s arms as soon as possible. They read, told stories, until Bernadetta fell asleep on Ferdinand’s chest, while the other two continued to speak.

“I didn’t want to alarm her by bringing it up earlier, but uh, how did you make her scream like that?” Asked Ferdinand.

“I bit her.”

“The bruise on her thigh?”

“Yes.”

“Is...that all?”

“It was really quite hard.”

They both looked down at her, admiring it on her leg.

“Any chance you could show me how hard tomorrow?”

“Only if you promise to let me breathe if you have me between your legs like she did.”


End file.
